Thirst
by CuriousKate
Summary: Days after Edward had Bella cowering in her seat that first time in Biology, a nomad passing through shows up behind Charlie's house. When Bella is lured into the woods and gets bitten, how will the Cullens deal with the matter? Is there any chance for her and Edward, or will Bella be consumed by the perpetual thirst of being a newborn? Future lemons! Please R&R!
1. Beautiful Abomination

**A/N – This story takes place at the very beginning of Twilight, on Bella's first weekend in Forks, at the very beginning of the second chapter. This is just after she first saw Edward Cullen, when he glared her down in Biology. **

**Bella's Quote – "My first weekend in Forks passed without incident." **

**That's where my story deviates. Bella's first weekend does **_**not**_** pass without incident. I hope you all enjoy, please read and review. Much love, Kate. **

Thirst 

Bella

When I wake up, I'm still surprised by my surroundings, even after spending my first week here. For a few seconds, when I'm stirring, I expect to open my eyes to the pale morning sunshine of Phoenix streaming in through the curtains.

Then I remember; I'm not at home. I'm with Charlie now, in the land of perpetual rain and greenery.

"Bells?"

I turn from the window, seeing my dad standing in the doorway, in his police uniform. I yawn and smile as convincingly as I can, earning a good morning from him.

"I'm going to be at work for most of the day, so I'll see you at dinner tonight," he tells me, securing his gun and holster.

"On a Saturday?" I raise my eyebrows, although it doesn't surprise me. Charlie's job is his wife and kids. Living alone, what else is he going to do on the weekends but go fishing?

"Yup. Crime never sleeps," he says gruffly, giving me a wry smile. Crime might as well be hibernating, in Forks.

"Okay," I reply, sitting up. I get out of bed, knowing I won't be sleeping in. I have too much moping to do. "I'll see you at dinner, then. I'm fixing us some Paella tonight," I yawn again. I know that if I'm going to keep myself busy, I need to make dinner a project. Rustling up a quick chicken salad wouldn't really consume my free time effectively.

"Sounds great," he grins. He awkwardly ruffles my hair as I pass him, heading for a shower. "See you later, kiddo."

"Bye, dad."

When I'm showered and dressed, I sit on the edge of my bed, running a comb through my wet tangles. I think about Monday. Will the allusive Edward Cullen be in school? For all I know, he's left. I'm both relieved and disappointed at the thought. I push my pathetic thoughts aside, embarrassed for even entertaining the idea that his absence could somehow be connected to his bizarre disliking of me. I don't even want to think about it anymore; I'm done pouring over the details – or lack thereof – in a vain attempt to understand his hateful glares. It simply doesn't make sense. I have to make my peace with that.

So I do just that. I continue with my day, getting some chores done. I do the laundry, satisfied that both Charlie and I aren't swamped for choices when it comes to our wardrobes. I vacuum and dust, cringing as I come face to face with my old school pictures. The one from tenth grade is probably my least favourite, displaying the most awkward stage of my awkward life. I consider taking the liberty of stashing them out of sight but refrain. It seems rude to take them down without at least consulting Charlie, first. I might be welcome here but this isn't my home.

After my chores are done, I step into my father's little kitchen, fetching myself a glass of water, just for something to do. As I stare out the square window, I consider watching a little television, when something in the distance catches my eye.

The forest's edge begins at the end of the yard, with no fence to separate them. As far as the eyes can see, there is varying degrees of green. It's dizzying.

But that's not what I'm looking at. Beyond the sea of green, in amongst the trees, I see a pale figure. When I narrow my eyes, I can see that it's a woman, with flowing black hair.

For some unknown reason, a chill runs up my spine.

Without thinking, I dump the water, banging the glass down with a protesting _thud. _I don't know what compels me to do it, but for some reason all I can do is open the back door, onto the porch, so I can get a better look at this mysterious figure.

_What is she doing? _I think to myself, confused. There's nothing but a few houses out on this side of town, so why is she here? Is she on a trail, a hiker?

My legs decide to find out, pulling me forward. As I go closer, her features become known, startling me. The thought comes unbidden, provoked by nothing more than the appearance of her.

_She looks like a Cullen. _

Her skin is pale and flawless, glowing dimply against the backdrop of green. Every feature is straight and perfect, with no ridges or mismatched angles. She looks otherworldly, startling in her immense beauty. Just like a Cullen. There is one small, yet highly significant difference, though.

Her eyes, framed with long, winged lashes, are scarlet red. Not gold, or amber. Red, like pooling blood.

I want to fear her. On some basic, carnal level I know I should. I don't though. All I want to do is go nearer, to come closer.

My feet eagerly carry me forward without my active consent, pushing me closer and closer to this frighteningly beautiful woman. It's like there's an elastic band suspended between us, but she is firmly planted to the ground, while I have no choice but to be pulled in her direction.

_No,_ I think, vehemently commanding myself to stay put. My feet plant themselves to the ground, going against their own wishes. _Something is very wrong, here. _

I look into her crimson eyes, bewildered by her. She simply raises one fist, painstakingly slowly unfurling a single finger. A glorious smile spreads across her face, illuminating her whole appearance. She curls her lifted pointer finger, gesturing her desire for my proximity.

I feel my resistance give way, both feet squelching against the sodden grass as I unwillingly press onward. My mind seems to cave under the weight of this consuming, irrational desire to go to her. It's as if there's no other choice in the matter, no alternative option. I must go to her.

As she sees me coming forward, the hypnotising beam on her upturned lips transforms into something completely different, something very sinister. Her pink top-lip curls back in an unnatural way, setting her expression in a dark grimace. She's baring her teeth at me, like an animal.

I know I'm supposed to be afraid, any normal person would, but I'm not. All I want to do is keeping moving forward, keep on journeying to her side.

"Faster," she hisses suddenly, the sound carrying through me like a dagger to the heart. My legs go the distance of two steps at a time, hurrying.

It occurs to me then, that this can't be real. This is the stuff of nightmares. I must be dreaming. This is too...too...supernatural.

_Wake up, Bella, _I order. I reach over and pinch my skin on my wrist, digging my nail in sharply until I feel wetness on my finger. _Wake up, damn it! Wake up!_

She snarls. She growls. She doesn't move. She stays in amongst the trees and I don't turn around. I begin running. I'm being pulled to her much, much faster than before, very nearly tripping as I sprint to the cusp of the woods, passing the trees.

It's not me running to her. She's pulling me forward, dragging me to her.

This can't be real.

I keep moving, until she's only a few feet away from me and she reaches for me. I gasp, hyperventilating as her nose touches mine. Against my warm skin, hers is ice cold. Chills run through me like little electric shocks, wracking my body as I try to squirm out of her stone hold. I want to run. I no longer feel the pull, I only feel repelled.

I have to get away.

"Don't struggle," she commands, her voice peeling bells. It's like she singing softly, romantically in my ear. A lone tear springs from me, snaking down my cheeks. She smiles angelically at me.

"May I kiss you?"

When I only stare back in utter horror, my heart ready to burst right out of my chest. The terrifying, beautiful woman leans in, securing my face with her strong grip. I flinch when she tenderly presses her soft, plum lips to mine, stroking my tear away with her thumb. Her kiss is searing and ice cold.

I feel my knees buckle out from under me but she holds me to her, securing my body against hers. She feel like stone, like a statue that belongs in a museum. I tremble as she leans in, her cherry lips whispering arctic air against my ear.

"You need not be frightened, child. I will not kill you slowly."

The terror in her words chills me to the bone. Beyond the fear comes longing, heartbreak. My life, already so empty and futile, is ending. I will never see my parents again, never be able to make something out of my small slice of time on this earth.

It's all over. My time is up.

She reaches for my hair, carefully stroking the length of it until she reaches my shoulder. She pushes my tresses back, revealing my neck to her. Her eyes change suddenly, fading from red to jet black. The darkness seeps in like water on cloth, saturating her iris until there's no colour left.

As I sag into her hard arms, I close my eyes, giving in to the end. I feel her wintery lips press against my neck and I feel momentary surprise at the image branded on the back of my eyelids.

I see only one thing.

Edward Cullen, the boy who has occupied my curiosity for most of my stay in Forks, glares down at me. His eyes are stunning, hypnotic and terrifying. I realize, with startling surety, that the Cullens must be the same as the creature who is about to end my life. They are monsters, beautiful abominations.

Perhaps Edward himself had wanted my life. Will he be disappointed when he hears that it's already been robbed by another just like him?

As she opens her mouth against my skin, I open my mouth to speak, to beg, but nothing comes out. I wait for her tongue to snake out, but it doesn't.

Her razorblade teeth slice through me like a knife through butter.

The sound of her moans of pleasure are enveloped by high pitched screaming. It takes me a moment to connect the sound to myself, before realizing I'm making the deafening sound. I freeze in utter shock, feeling my lungs fill and empty too fast as my body registers the intrusion.

From my neck, she sucks wildly, draining me, pull after pull on my life source. My head feels light and my screams quiet to a low gurgling.

Until I feel something stinging my neck. I struggle, hard, trying in vain to pull away from this monster. I begin screaming, even louder than before, wailing, as my neck bursts into flames. The fire is crippling.

I'm on fire.

In the distance, I hear a sound that barely makes it to my ears through all the screaming. Growling. Gut-wrenching snarling.

Tears pour down my face as I sob, screaming in agony. I've never been in so much searing pain. I'll gladly give her my life, in exchange for relief. When will this pain end?

The growling becomes louder as I hear the rustling of leaves on the trees.

Before I can register what is happening, I'm flying. Green blurs pass my vision as the air whooshes past me. In the next second, my back slaps against something hard and I feel my spine bend the wrong way, snapping upon impact. Then I fall.

I wrench my eyes open, wailing so loudly, waiting for the demon woman to come after me. My eyes are swimming with tears as the burning spreads from my neck to my skull, seeping through my flesh. I gaze into the forest, seeing the pale figure pinned to the ground underneath a gargantuan beast...a wolf. He tears at her face with his teeth, pulling chunks of her apart, like she's made of marble. Parts of her fly in all directions as she screams a chilling, ear-piercing scream that makes mine pale in comparison.

My eyes scrunch closed again as the fire spreads further, charring me from the inside out. Without conscious decision, I find myself begging for death, my senseless cries transforming into a plea.

"Isabella? Isabella Swan, listen to me!" a rough voice commands. I unwillingly open my eyes, barely looking through a slit. I see naked man, with his face right up to mine. I barely feel him shaking me as the fire licks at my throat, my lungs.

"I'm on fire!" I scream, sobbing between breaths. "Please, you have to put out the fire! Put out the fire!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Then kill me. Kill me now! It hurts!"

The man rears back, rippling and shuddering as he gazes down at me. His face twists. I roll around in turmoil, desperately trying to put the fire out.

"Shit," he mutters.

When he scoops me up, I flail against him. I feel him press some kind of fabric to my bleeding neck. I feel the air against my fiery skin but it does nothing to relieve the agony. I cry and scream as the flames sink down to my toes, leaving every inch of my body to char.

Why am I not dead? Why? The pain is too much.

I open my eyes, looking up at the man, realizing dimly that he's running through the woods. I ball my fists against his chest as I beg for death.

"Kill me, please, oh god, please kill me. The pain is too much!" I cry. I try to flail my legs as well as my arms, only to find that my legs no longer work. They sag earthward as the flames torture me.

The man ignores me. I watch as his dark eyes harden.

"I'm taking you to the Cullens," he says, dutifully. "I won't kill you. It's not fair."

I picture Edward and his dangerous perfection, feeling pure terror wrack through me. More biting. More burning, without the promise of death.

"NO! Leave me to die! YOU CAN'T TAKE ME THERE!"

He ignores me, a single tear leaking from his eye. I feel sick as the flames hit me from every possible direction, burning me to the bone, boiling my blood.

I cry, I beg and I plead. I focus on the pain in my spine to avoid the burning, but I can't evade it. I don't know how much time passes. Minutes. Hours. Every passing moment lasts a lifetime, beginning and ending with hellfire.

"When will I die?" My voice is grating, gravelly from the screaming. I picture the flames burning holes in my throat, where the burning seems most violent. I keep looking down, expecting fire, but the burning must be only inside my body because I can't see the red hot flames.

"You won't," he replies. "You won't ever die."

My heart breaks. What world have I been born into? What don't I know?

It has to end somewhere. The burning cannot last forever. Can it?

"What's happening to me?!"

The man looks down at me, his eyes etched in pain.

"I'll let Carlisle explain that one. I'm already doing that _bloodsucker_ a favour." His voice is contorted with rage. If he hates the doctor, then why is he taking me to him? If he's an evil monster then why is he _delivering_ me to him?

"Oh _no_," I sob loudly. "_Please, no._ No!"

I try struggling away from him, moaning in pain. I keep feeling that I will fall unconscious from the overwhelming, staggering sensation. I don't, though. I stay awake, on the surface, living and breathing fire.

Time passes. I still cannot measure it. The fire rages on.

Eventually, I feel us begin to speed up. I open my eyes, still weeping in all this hell. We are approaching a wide river amongst the trees, but the man doesn't stop. He rages on, propelling us toward the water bank.

Is he going to drown me?

I flinch when he suddenly leaps, carrying us over the huge length of the water effortlessly, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh _fuck_," I moan, cursing at him. "What _is wrong with you?_"

He ignores me, flinging us through the forest again. I continue crying and screaming out, knowing it will solve nothing. I can't rise above this agony. I can't push it away.

As we begin to slow, I know longer know where I begin and end. Everything is burning in invisible flames, consuming me. I claw at my neck in futility. My throat feels drier than a desert dune.

I open my eyes, feeling too hopeful when we come to complete standstill. I roll around on the ground when he delicately places me on long grass. I look up at the dull, grey sky and weep for myself. I want to die. I pray for death.

"Oh my goodness!" A soft, delicate voice cries.

Around me I hear more growling and hissing, barely audible through my shrieking.

"_Edward,_" a female voice snarls, vicious. "That _fucker._"

"Rosalie, be calm," a male voice commands, smooth as silk, like the voice before him. My sobs deepen, as I recognise her name. Rosalie Hale, one of the Cullens.

The man who carried me here responds in a tight voice, sounding almost aggressive. "It wasn't him. It was a female. She bit her, not far from her home. A friend of yours?"

"No," the calm monster replies, sounding bewildered and...appalled. "We had no idea there was another of our kind in the area. This is...devastating."

"Kill me, please!" I shriek, folding under the intensity of the burning, which rises. "Please...someone do it. Just _DO IT_!"

I open my eyes as strong, icy arms – just like the ones of my previous attacker – curl around me. I look up through my tears into the golden eyes of a woman I don't recognise. Her long, golden waves curl against my skin. My eyes lock with hers, pleading.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she soothes, running her icy hands over my scalp, which have no effect against the flames. "It will end, soon. I wish we could stop the pain." She presses her lips together, looking down at me with agony in her eyes.

I don't understand.

I don't try to, either. I let myself be enveloped in the flames, giving in. Maybe if I stop resisting, the pain will go faster. The woman promised there would be an end. I hold onto it with everything I have, looking past the pain.

"I brought her here," the rough-voiced man speaks again, "because in the treaty it states that if one of _you _bites another human, then the treaty is void. When I saw that it wasn't a Cullen, I decided against killing this girl. If you promise to leave this place as soon as possible, then you may keep her as your own and train her to live the way you and your family do."

The other man responds. "Thank you, young man. It was very kind of you to spare her life."

"I don't live to kill humans," he spits in reply. "I'm not like you."

For a moment, all that can be heard is my screams.

I hear the voice of Rosalie, again, but this time she's not angry. She sounds...heartbroken.

"Carlisle, no. We can't bring another innocent into this life. We have to kill her, while she's still mortal. This is her only chance to go peacefully," she pleads, frantic.

_Mortal? _

"_What are you?!" _I wail, thrashing against the tender woman. She lets me go, allowing me to claw at the earth in crippling pain. My legs remain dead weight, completely numb.

"_Carlisle!_" Rosalie cries. "We _can't do_ this!"

A small, high pitched voice that sounds like singing makes itself known. I continue to cry, clutching at the grass and the soil. When will the burning end?

"Rose, we have to give this serious thought. Not everyone regrets this life. Edward's not even here. We need to discuss this as a family before we do anything rash," she reasons.

I hear the soothing voice of the man, who I assume is Carlisle, interrupt when Rosalie tries to speak. I stop screaming. I just moan softly, my tears having run dry.

"Alice is right. This child needs more consideration. She's barely lived."

I hear more hissing before I feel cold arms scoop me up. I look up into another beautiful face, a marker for danger. His face is pale, like the rest and his eyes are honey gold. His hair is blonde.

"We will stage a death," Carlisle says above me, grimly speaking. "Then we will keep Bella here for a few weeks before I will transfer to another hospital, far away from here."

"Do what you have to do. Just make sure she goes nowhere near the humans while you're here, or the treaty is finished," my carrier warns. "I will be keeping an eye out."

"Of course," Carlisle responds. "We can handle her."

I glance at the man, who stares at me for a moment, his eyes full of sorrow.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it. You're still human," he explains, as if I could possible understand. He turns around, shimmering and blurring as he disappears into the woods.

"Let's take her inside and take her upstairs, Carlisle," the kind woman murmurs, touching his arm. She gazes down at me sadly. I can do nothing but suffer, crying tearlessly. I feel like my whole body is drying up all over, scorched by the heat.

Carlisle agrees with the kind woman and I close my eyes, choking out sobs as I am carried into the unknown.

**What do you think? Let me know in the comments! I crave reviews! Peace x**


	2. Unwarrented Curiosity

**Okay so I've had a good response so far! Glad you guys are enjoying my story. If you like the second chapter, be a darling and leave me a review. They make my day! **

**Edward's POV chapter is beginning the day after Bella's change started, on the Sunday. If you refer back to Midnight Sun, you'll see that he decided to leave Denali on the sixth day of his absence. I urge you to read chapter two of MS before reading my chapter, because I think Edward's thought processes will flow better and you readers will see how Edward feels about Bella at this time. It's not necessary, though. **

**Hope you enjoy the chapter. Thank you. ****J**

Edward

My driving is very nearly idle, unhurried, almost abiding by the speed limit on the highway as I depart from Denali. I will get to Forks by sunrise, on Monday, just in time for school. One of the benefits of permanent wakefulness is the ability to drive any given distance without stopping for anything but gas, allowing myself to skate across the earth to my hearts content. For myself, driving is usually a soothing exercise – if not a time consumer – but in this case it is an opportunity for me to prepare for the temptation that is Bella Swan, a mere insignificant human with significantly mouth-watering blood.

On this trip, all of my thoughts belong to her, an infuriating enigma as well as a fuel to my aching thirst. The frozen image of her deep chocolate, endless eyes, full of questions, still imprints itself upon my brain, veiling over my once perfect vision like the thinnest silk. I allow myself to think about her, facing my most daunting challenge in my time on this earth, head on, as Tanya had suggested.

There will be pain. There will be hunger and suffering, but there will be no death. It's not simply a case of my distaste for needlessly ending human life. Neither can I claim that my decision to let Bella Swan live is for the sake of my family, of Carlisle, my respective father. I cannot lie to myself, not when I am in this solitude, pouring over every detail of my near-disastrous encounter with the girl. No, my refusal to give in to my baser instincts is in no way linked to the sphere of rational thinking.

Bella Swan is full of secrets...and I desperately crave their unveiling.

I cringe to myself quietly, thankful that I am free to think these thoughts privately, unlike that of my family, who are ensnared in the permanent fixture of my gift. If they knew my thoughts now, my chagrin would be unbearable. I know that in reality this Swan girl presents a mystery that isn't worth discovering, but I also know that if I don't get some idea of the nature of her thoughts then I will be forever haunted by her peculiar silence.

It's not that human beings are not respected by myself, or my family, far from it. In my existence, though, I have found that their kind tend to have little depth to their thoughts, in the core of themselves. Of course, there are rare gems among the flock, but I usually find that they are_ indeed_ very rare in a sea of monotony.

After over eighty years of mind-reading, it is to be expected. There's only so many different ways the minds of humans can differ. Vampire minds only tend to interest me more, because commonly they have lived longer than most humans could hope to. With age, comes wisdom and humbleness, usually.

I try to justify my curiosity to myself the whole journey, causing it to develop and grow. Who is this painfully sweet-scented woman-child? Why has she barged into my life, a perfection in its tedium? Why has she decided to rain terror on my senses, on my once steady control?

My foot presses more firmly against the accelerator. My drive is no longer quietly pensive. A sense of urgency overwhelms me as I ponder her existence. I have never before encountered a silent thought. Until last Monday, I was confident that there wasn't a thought on the planet I could not decipher.

The baffling curiosity nips at the edges of my mind, impossible to disregard.

If she didn't smell so agonisingly tempting, I would go straight to Chief Swan's house tonight. I would peer past the forest's edge, into the windows. I would listen to Bella and her father converse until I had some vague notion of her secret personality. I would confirm my suspicion that she is indeed no more special than the likes of Mike Newton, or Jessica Stanley and I would suffer on through every biology session until the time came where she could no longer torment me with her scent.

I know that, in reality, if I carried out my fantasy, Bella Swan would be dead before breakfast.

Perhaps, if I first hunt gluttonously, I will have the strength to attend Biology and sit by her, rather than hiding in my car like I had so pathetically done after my initial exposure to the girl. Perhaps I will be able to waste my breath in an attempt to lure her into exposing her thoughts to me, so that I can put my unwarranted curiosity to rest.

I got the impression, from what little attention I paid her, that she was a closed book to those who pressed her. Jessica Stanley was flaunting her like a new pair of designer shoes, content to use her for the attention she so craved. Mike Newton and Eric Yorkie, however, seemed eager to divulge information from the new girl, already infatuated by the prospect of a new body to ogle. If I recall, from what I saw through their thoughts, Bella was much less than forthcoming when it came to revealing aspects of herself.

I feel that it is, if anything, my responsibility to cajole her into revealing the inner workings of her mind. As my family's lookout, for those rare occasions when someone suspects our otherness, I have to acknowledge my duty to protect our secret. I have to make sure that she has no suspicions about us, or the way I behaved toward her, with such unjust revulsion, on our first meeting.

I settle into the drive again, pacified at having established a plan, when my phone buzzes insistently in my pocket. Before the second sequence of vibrations I have the device pressed to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Edward?" Alice's voice immediately sets me on edge, the anxious tenor unmistakable. Instantly I think of Bella, alarmed by my callous nature, having somehow deduced our disturbing reality. Has Alice envisioned a widespread town story-telling, far too close to the truth of our immortal existence?

"What's wrong? Is everything alright?" I speak quickly to the phone, earning a pause from my usually outspoken sister.

Something is very, very wrong.

"Alice?"

"It's Bella Swan," she whispers.

For reasons unknown to me, I slam down the brakes, my father's car lurching to an abrupt standstill.

The enigmatic face in front of my eyes frowns, the 'v' between her brows furrowing further. The translucent image of her wavers, shimmering in and out of existence as I contemplate the idea of her death.

Is Jasper the cause? Did he lose all control, somehow crossing paths with the silent-minded girl when his thirst had gone on unaddressed far too long? Was it Rosalie, ever-protective of our place in the public eye, determined not to allow possible suspicion from such a seemingly unimportant child, who'd born witness to my evident blood lust?

I don't even have time to think about why this affects me the way it does before Alice launches into her explanation.

"The girl...she has been bitten. By a nomad, some female passing through, right by her _house_, Edward. I didn't see...I just didn't. You know I keep an eye out for others of our kind but I swear I didn't see her coming."

I don't know how I do it, but when I hear horns honking behind me, I pull over on the hard shoulder. I open my mouth to respond to Alice and nothing comes out, not a breath.

I think back to the changes to which I have bore witness, to Esme, Rosalie and Emmett, even recalling my own transformation. I reluctantly remind myself of the burning, the monstrous amount of pain with an intensity that cannot be matched. Watching others go through the pain has always very nearly been as bad as suffering it myself.

So when I try to picture the innocent, delicate face of Bella Swan, contorted in unparalleled agony, I'm overwhelmed by the force of grief that ensues. It's inexplicable, but it is also undeniable.

"Is the girl dead?" I choke, barely above a whisper.

"No. She is changing, quickly."

Moments ago, my worst nightmare had been taking her young life. Now, I realise, that watching her needlessly lose her humanity might be much, much worse. It doesn't matter that her damnation will not be at my hands. The devastation is disabling.

Bella's number was up the moment she arrived. I wonder if she's always been dodging bullets, if her life so far has been a miracle, or if Forks has cursed her.

It has only been a matter of seconds since Alice last spoke, but when I don't say anything, she continues.

"Rosalie is determined that we end it before the transformation is complete. She's on some kind of hero murder mission. I'm scared, Edward. My vision of Bella keeps changing, going from vampire to corpse! It's her only chance at another life and Rose is unwilling to see any perspective other than her own. She's being so irrational that Jasper and I have had to guard the door, to make sure she doesn't spring in and rip her head off!"

Carlisle's steering wheel whimpers under the strength of my clenched fists, leaving an imprint of my fingers on the surface. The growl begins deep in my chest, spilling from my clenched teeth, declaring what I would now have to admit.

I don't know Bella, but the irrational instinct to protect her, in all her fragility, is clear as day to me. The thought of Rosalie laying a finger on her burning body makes my skin crawl.

I selfishly try not to think about the fact that Rosalie might be perfectly justified in her intentions. Deep down I know that most of us would willingly burn a hundred times over to become human, but is this fate worse than death?

Either way, the thought of the girl passing without even revealing a piece of her mind to me causes me to pull onto the road again, intent on getting to her before Rosalie can fulfil her wishes.

"Don't you let Rosalie touch her, Alice," it comes out a strangled plea, rather than a demand. I'm glad that it's my favourite sister on the phone, because I trust her with my raw, unnamed emotions. "She has no right to make that choice for her, not now."

"No, she doesn't," Alice agrees. "I'm not so worried about her, for now. For the most part, she is resigned, although I don't imagine she'll be warm with us for a while. She thinks Bella will long for mortality the way she does and is desperate to give her the chance at...well, death."

"Alice..." I whisper, feeling strangely vulnerable. "I just...I can't...process this. A week ago I thought I was going to kill her and now she's..."

"Becoming one of us." The sound of her voice makes me suspect that Alice is more than welcoming to our new arrival. I wonder, with disarming curiosity, what Alice has seen of her in her transformation.

I close my eyes in an attempt to escape the ghost of Bella's fascinating face, invading my vision. Her wide eyes are burned against the blackness of my eyelids and now they are blood red.

"Start from the beginning," I demand. "Tell me everything."

When I approach the turn off to our house, nestled amongst a wide expanse of forestry, I hear it.

The wailing.

It outcries every other voice in the house, which for the most part are comforting. Bella's voice, which I can hear is changing, cuts through me every time she lets out a cry. When I pull up to the house, I cut the engine, and stay sitting, once again hiding from her.

I could not, in my wildest dreams, have seen this coming. It baffles me that Alice didn't, though.

I sift through the minds of my family until I reach the members closest to Bella. Alice and Jasper are still dutifully guarding the door, although Rosalie is pacing the floor in her room, tortured by the happenings in Carlisle's study. Esme and Emmett are with her, trying to soothe her grief, to rearrange her perspective. She barely acknowledges my arrival, although she is the only one.

_Edward._

Five minds register my presence, all feeling a similar degree of apprehension. I don't think about that, though.

My mind zeroes in on my father, seeking his visual perspective on the girl. Through his eyes, I see his hand tightly grasped by Bella's already almost as pale and smooth as his. I stiffen as another round of choked sobbing breaks through her.

_She has stopped begging for death,_ Carlisle thinks, a hopeful edge to his inner narrative. _That's a good sign. _

Pleading for death is almost always a part of the change. With that level of unwavering pain, like vicious fire running through your veins, the relief of death is desperately sought out by whomever suffers it.

As I exit my car, I hear Carlisle ask Alice how long is left. I listen to her mind, shocked by the sight of Bella opening her crimson eyes to a new world. I only catch a flicker of it, but her face is beatific, flawless, as is to be expected. The grandfather clock in Carlisle's study has been placed behind the leather loveseat, which Bella is curled up on, continuously shuddering.

The clock reads half past eight, presumably in the morning, considering the advanced pace her change is moving. Merely three hours from now.

"About three hours," she replies, brighter than she was on the phone to me. Perhaps she has seen good things.

I watch her every move through my father's eyes as I enter the house, seeing her reaction as her now keener senses acknowledge an entrance. Her eyes, rich and coppery in colour, widen for an eighth of a second, momentarily wary before another wave of excruciating pain pulls her. I feel my face crumple as I watch her cough out dry sobs, no longer able to produce tears.

I carefully breathe in, seeking out her unforgettable scent.

It hits me with significantly less force, becoming less detectable. Her blood is already beginning to thin, absorbed by her tissue.

I think about the faceless nomad who did this, my fists automatically clenching. I know the solitary werewolf will have to be questioned. We don't even know if this she-devil is dead, yet.

"Don't worry," Carlisle murmurs, gently patting her hand. "It's only Edward."

I desperately search the empty space where her thoughts should be, hungry for her reaction. Is she afraid of me? How will she receive my presence, after our less than savoury encounter?

Upon hearing Alice's confirming of the short time until Bella's completion, Rosalie snarls. I step swiftly aside as she bolts down the stairs, flying past me and out the door. Her lingering thought that was directed at me, tinged with bitter betrayal, hangs in my head, echoing.

_I thought you'd be on my side. _

Everyone knows that, being the odd one out, my existence has been inarguably lonely. Surrounded by couples, I try to maintain the facade that this doesn't bother me in the slightest. I've just never found someone that made me feel so inclined. I suspect that my life will probably go on without a mate and it is something I have come to terms with.

So, it makes sense that Rosalie feels betrayed. A vampire life isn't easy at the best of times, especially in the stark eyes of human kind, but it is even less so when you are alone, without a mate. She figured I would automatically try to forbid Bella's entrance into this dark life and now she is painfully bewildered by my refusal.

How do I explain to her what I can't explain to myself?

When I join the others upstairs, Bella's scent stings my throat in a way that is manageable. I still gulp as my mouth dries, though.

"It's good to have you back, Edward," Esme greets quietly, exiting Rose's room with a forlorn eyed Emmett. From his thoughts I see that he worries for his mate, although he is in no way averse to our new addition.

I nod in greeting, looking past my family, watching Bella through Carlisle's thoughts. A flicker of my expression through Emmett's eyes makes me rearrange my concerned expression. Why do I feel so unnaturally worried for this inconsequential girl?

"At least you won't have to worry about killing her," Emmett smirks weakly, trying to lighten the situation.

"Don't make jokes," Esme chastens, throwing a glance.

"This is very serious," Alice pipes in, siding with Esme. "Bella's parents are in pieces. They think they're daughter is dead. Have a little respect."

Emmett holds up his hands apologetically and I see the shame through his thoughts. When I see Bella's reaction through Carlisle's eyes, I flinch.

"Oh, god, p-poor Renee," Bella whimpers, clutching Carlisle's hands for dear life. "_Charlie._"

"I know," Carlisle whispers, doing his best to comfort the girl. "I know, it hurts, but it is for the best."

I want to ask if they staged a death, but I think better of it as Bella's tearless weeping continues. My dead heart aches at the thought of her parent's grief, of her own. How could she have possibly imagined what her life would now become?

If only I could _see. _

Time passes very slowly as we wait, as Carlisle explains to Bella some of the details of our way of life. I notice that he is speedily sifting through things he has already told her and know that she has been informed of the significant details that her change will pose.

Bella begins breathing a little normally, settling as the pain begins to lift when less than an hour is predicted for her change. Alice is thinking about all the new clothes she rushed out to get for her yesterday, having left Esme to guard Bella while she was gone. She imagines Bella, in her vampire form, in all manner of garments, ranging from casual jeans to ball gowns. Trust Alice to be thinking about fashion in a crisis.

Jasper is preparing himself for the arrival of a newborn. He knows that his experience will warrant extra responsibility for her on his part and is apprehensive. He hasn't dealt with a newborn in some time, now. He knows they are ruled by their thirst, unpredictable and very strong.

Esme is thinking about Bella's pain, grieving for the separation of her family. For Esme, her heart is in her family and the thought of losing her adoptive children is beyond unbearable for her. She thinks about giving her condolences to Charlie and decides that the only way that would be possible is if she saw him in town. She knows it would be far too suspicious if she arrived at his home, having never spoken to him before.

Emmett is thinking about Rosalie. His thoughts are filled with worry, which is so unlike him. When it comes to his bride, though, Emmett is all too capable of suffering with her.

Carlisle is thinking about me, which is surprising, considering the circumstances.

_I wonder how he's taking this...is their potential in Bella, as a mate...?_

I cough, very obviously, causing Carlisle to rein in his wayward thoughts, becoming apologetic. He knows I have accepted that I will find no mate. How could he imagine I would find it in a teenage girl, a newborn?

Everyone is silent as we listen intently to Bella Swan's heart fight against the venom in her veins. I watch through my father's thoughts as her features begin fully developing, sharpening. Her heart shaped face becomes more softly proportioned, her plump lips smoothening, turning an inviting shade of pale pink, still noticeably darker than her colourless face. The shadows that are under our eyes are almost undetectable under her wide, almond shaped orbs, a deep burgundy, now. I watch, enraptured, as her lashes thicken and lengthen, curling at the ends. Her hair goes the same way as her eyelashes, becoming impossibly thicker and longer, flowing down pas her waist, rich and dark, filled with many shades of brown and even red. I want to go in so I can touch those mahogany waves, but I know that would be utterly unacceptable. The last thing she needs is to be marvelled.

Bella gasps as she feels her heart begin to slip away from her, giving two more struggled beats, before giving out. Alice smiles, and everyone stiffens with bated breath.

My heart sinks when her right hand, perfect marble, flies to her neck. Emmett's following thought affects me more than I can understand.

_Let the thirst begin._


	3. Rebirth

**Apologies to any readers who were faced with warped formatting, I've corrected the error. Thanks, littlestir for pointing it out, I wouldn't have noticed. **

**Evening faithful readers! I am so appreciative of all your support and reviews, they mean more to me than I can say. I love you guys. **

**In this chapter, we'll see some of Bella's transformation from her point of view, after the Cullens took her inside, as well as a peak into her first hunt! Exciting stuff, huh?**

**If you like what you read, please feel free to let me know in the comments. I love your thoughts. **

**Bella**

The pain is subsiding. Slowly, but surely, making way for sensation. I don't know how long I've been on Dr Cullen's couch but I do know that I've seen the sun come up and it is now starting to go down. Things are changing. I can feel subtle differences when I smell the air, when I listen to the Cullens speaking to one another from different parts of the house.

It started with my fingertips and my toes. The relief held no significance, not in comparison with the excruciating burning that I will never become accustomed to. It was a start, though.

Then the absence of pain began to crawl up-the-ways, the fire fizzling out in my hands and feet. My reaction was to wriggle my toes, but I still can't move anything past my torso. I am free to flex my fingers, though.

Now, as Esme Cullen holds my hand, I can somewhat appreciate her touch. I'm not as frightened of her as I am of the rest and that worries me on a fundamental level. As the pain has faded, my attention has returned, but it is basic. Sometimes, as the fire licks my flesh and bones, I feel like I might pass out, or pass away.

I don't, though. I still wish for death, but no one will grant me it. I know that Rosalie wants my death and if I wasn't in so much flaming agony, I know I'd be brimming with curiosity and fear.

"Shhh, honey. It's going to be okay. You've not got long to go, now."

I moan and whimper, beguiled by her caring nature. The Cullens are monsters, just like the strange woman who bit me. Why is she being so soft and kind? Is it to torture me before finally reigniting the fire?

"_Please_," I gasp, barely getting the words out through gritted teeth. "No more biting. I can't take any more!"

My eyes are slits, hardly able to remain open as I gauge her reaction. She looks...pained, as if my words have hurt her.

"Oh, honey, no. Is that what you think you're here for? I promise you, no one is going to hurt you. We're going to take care of you, Bella," she croons tenderly, stroking the flesh of my hand with her thumb. I wonder briefly why she isn't so cold anymore, before the fire pulls me back in. I wail, crying out, begging for death.

"But...I...oh _god_," I moan, shaking. I growl in unparalleled frustration. I need to get the words out. "I just don't..._understand_."

Esme sits back for a moment, worrying her top lip. I wrench my hand from hers, so that I can clench both of them into fists, balled against my chest as I curl up tight. The pain is too, too much.

"Bella...sweetheart...I think it best that Carlisle explains this to you. Right now, he is talking to Rosalie. I just don't think–"

"_I don't know what's going on!" _I scream, pulling my hair, tugging painfully on my burning scalp. Every part of me is like a furnace, every part but my hands and my feet. I can feel the pain evaporating from my ankles and wrists, too slowly. It's like the fire is leaking away, one drip at a time, like a broken faucet.

I expect Esme to be upset by my outburst, but she doesn't appear frightened or appalled. She just sits patiently, with compassion in her face. Her kindness is both infuriating and lovelier than anything I expected to receive upon my arrival.

"You're changing, Bella. We've all gone through it. It will end, though. I promise you that. I know I can't say anything that will make the pain ease any quicker, but I can tell you that you are safe and that everything will be alright."

"Why can't I see my dad?" I demand through gritted teeth. "He thinks I'm missing, doesn't he? Why won't you tell him what's happening?"

At that moment, I hear footsteps approaching the door, and the doctor enters, smiling compassionately.

_What the fuck is there to smile about? Are you hungry? I am not a meal! _I think to myself, longing to berate him, but too consumed by more burning. Is it intensifying? Or am I just developing more capacity for pain?

"I think it's time to explain ourselves, Bella. Darling, I think Alice needs an extra body by the door," he murmurs quietly, touching his wife on the arm. She touches my hair, smiling sadly before exiting the room. I hear her settle herself by the door, beside Jasper. The tiny, sing-song voice of Alice makes itself known as she instructs Esme to stay there while she-

I don't hear any more, because I am once again pulled back into fiery agony. It takes minutes for me to find semi-composure, still burning.

I visibly shrink away from Carlisle as he sits down where Esme had, right by me. A sound that I can only describe as a hiss blows past my teeth, which are firmly clamped together.

I have never hissed in my life.

"Don't be afraid," he soothes, looking me in the eye. "It will end soon."

_I need it to end NOW._

"Tell me everything I need to know," I choke out, barely above a whisper.

"Of course, you deserve the truth. I just thought it would be better to wait until you were coherent enough to fully understand what I am saying," he calmly, slowly explains to me.

I quickly nod, once, impatient and afraid.

"Do you remember everything about your attacker?"

I wince. Of course I do. I will never forget that moment as long as I live. I nod, beyond speech.

"So, you must gather that she was not quite...human?"

"Yes," I shudder, curling up tighter, frustrated that I can't pull my knees in. I can't decide if the trembling is brought on by the agony of my burning, or by the vivid memory of being lured and bitten. "You are the same as her." I struggle to get the accusation out past my teeth.

"In essence, yes. We are the same _type_ of creature, but we are not the same. You see, the woman who...bit you...was doing it because that is how she eats."

The word flies through my head so quickly I almost don't catch it, my mind a fog from the awful pain. Somehow, I manage to say the word without even thinking about it, as if it flows right from my brain through my mouth without preamble.

"_Vampire_."

Carlisle is silent and I know, with sickening clarity, that I am right. Ever since I stepped out of Charlie's house, to approach that monster in the woods, my life has changed. Reality has spun on its head and I know nothing of it anymore. What's real and purely invention are now combined, merged into nothing and everything. There is no solid separation, no black and white.

Vampires are real and I am burning, but there is no fire.

I need more information, now.

"Yes, Bella. That is what we are. I know this must be a lot to take in, but it is important that you listen carefully before letting fear or confusion cloud your perspective."

I nod again. Speaking requires all of my effort, because it is almost impossible not to scream and cry everytime I open my mouth.

"I'm assuming your attacker had bright red eyes, Bella. As you may have noticed, in spite of our striking similarities, myself and my family all have gold eyes."

I nod, panting through the pain. I need to get through this, so I can understand, so I can know what on earth is going on here.

"Our eye color is a marker of our diet. Vampires who posses red eyes...they feed on humans. That is what your attacker presumably intended to do to you, before Sam saved you."

Sam. That was the name of the strange man with the giant wolf, who brought me to the Cullens. I had no idea he was saving me. I was so sure he was throwing me to the sharks when he dumped me here.

"We don't drink from humans. We are...vegetarians, if you like. We hunt animals. We resist the overwhelming urge to feed on humans, and in result, we are able to live among them, without being exposed. We are not a danger to the public, nor are we a danger to you. We are a family with the sole intention to live as humanely as possible, without harming people."

For a moment, I am able to push the pain aside, somewhat, enraptured in this new information. I keep telling myself, all through his speech, that vampires aren't real.

I know, now, that I am lying to myself.

I get the impression that Carlisle is being nothing but truthful and all but sag in relief. Life is still upside down. I still don't know what's going on, but I do know that these people...vampires...are not a danger. Not like the one I met yesterday.

"More," I croak, closing my eyes against the agony. Carlisle pauses for a minute, letting me ride it out, before proceeding. When I reluctantly open my eyes, his expression is understanding, kind.

"What happened to you...in the woods – you were bitten, as I'm sure you understand. When she did that, she released her venom into your blood stream, which is why you are in such excruciating pain, now. The venom itself is not harmful and you will not die, alright? The only chance of death is posed when the human is already dying before being bitten, but clearly this happened when you were in a stable condition."

I nod, again, in understanding.

"So, when the venom is released, a transformation begins and it is very, very painful. It will feel like your burning, but you are not. You are perfectly fine; in fact, your body is changing into something much more durable," he explains softly, his eyes cast downward.

Then, I realise what his words truly mean. I understand, now.

"No," I gasp, disbelieving. Carlisle presses his lips together, watchful of my reaction. When he reaches out to touch my hand, to comfort me, I pull back, staring at him in complete horror.

"I'm sorry, Bella. This is not the life we choose. I know that it is going to take some time for you to adjust, but you will. As long as you want us, you are welcome to be a part of this family. You will have to adopt our lifestyle, though. That is our one stipulation."

"This isn't real!" I yell, clutching my fiery stomach. Suddenly, I am imploding with fury, unable to swallow this news. "You're _lying _to me!" I hiss viciously, no longer surprised by the sound. It feels natural.

"I wish I was," he murmurs, almost wistful, keeping his eyes glued to mine, as if he's holding me to the earth, keeping me grounded.

"I'm not a monster," I choke. I feel my eyes begin prickling, but there is only dryness, no tears.

"You don't have to be," he responds calmly. "Join us, in this way of life and we can help you keep your humanity. If you go on to a diet of human blood, you will become the monster you fear, living for the kill. If you live compassionately by feeding on only animal blood, that will help you return to yourself, once you are used to your new thirst."

I can tell from his words, even through my immense rage, that he is serious. This no guideline. This is his promise to me.

I think about my parents and instantly, my priorities change.

"What about Charlie? My mother? She...n-needs me." My wavering voice is pleading as I try to override my pain.

Carlisle's eyes tighten in something like pain and then soften.

"Your family cannot know about you. No humans can. It's an unconditional part of being who we are and its one rule that we will not bend."

"But...can I see them again?" My dry eyes prickle once again as I absorb all of this new information. It's too much. It's all too much and not enough. Coupled with the pain, it is unbearable.

"I'm afraid not, Bella. I am so sorry. I know that nothing I can say will ease the pain, but you have to understand that this is not just for our protection. If your family, or friends, or anyone you know, see you again, you will be putting them all in grave danger."

My heart stutters. I picture my parents and it very nearly breaks.

How will they cope? How will _I _cope?

"Why? I can't just not _see_ them again!"

"I know, but you simply cannot do it, for the sake of your family and for the sake of ours. If you reveal our secret, there are others like us, who are more powerful and less forgiving, who will not tolerate risks of exposure. If they were to find out about us revealing our true selves, to any humans...they would kill us. No questions asked. They would murder your parents, too, along with anyone else who harbours any awareness."

I'm silent, breathing heavily, covered in day old sweat, as I take this in. I will never see my parents again. I will never be able to say another word to my mother and father. I won't even get to say one last goodbye.

My heart feels as if it shatters into a million fragments, even though I still feel its strong, vital beat.

This can't be real.

"What will they think?" I whimper so softly I almost don't hear the words myself. "That I've disappeared?"

"No," Carlisle assures. "We won't do that to them. There will be investigations and suspicion, as well, which is something we absolutely avoid. We don't want your family to be too hopeful about seeing you again, either."

"Then what?" I demand, knowing where this is headed.

"We staged a scene, outside your home, where you were bitten. We constructed it with the use of some of your clothes, torn up and stained with your blood. Chief Swan will believe that you were attacked...and carried off...by a wild animal."

For a moment, I am utterly silent, just managing to ignore my physical pain. Then I realise the picture he paints doesn't really add up.

"My blood? How?"

Carlisle looks ashamed, before explaining, hurriedly.

"We extracted a sample of your blood, not long after you were handed to us by Sam. You were too far gone, completely incapacitated by your own pain. You were not with us, for a while. You didn't even flinch when I inserted the needle. It never gets easier, seeing another innocent person have to go through that."

I sob. The sound is broken and cracked, but it makes Carlisle sag, looking one hundred rather than in his twenties.

"I'm so sorry. I wish we could turn back the clock for you, but the only solution is to make your life as easy as we can. We will stand by you, Bella. I promise."

_It's not enough_, I want to tell him. _I'm becoming a monster. My parents are now under the impression that I am dead. _

I wail. I scream. I curse. It's all pain, emotional, physical and it is more than I can bare.

"Kill me," I demand. "Just end it, please."

"I won't. I'm sorry. I feel that, with time, you will learn to adapt and accept your life as of now. There is happiness to be found, even in this life."

"I need to be alone," I say, staring out the window in front of me, wondering why the tears aren't coming. My eyes throb and prickle but remain bone dry.

Carlisle silently makes his way out and I cave in.

I don't know how long I cry for. The tearless sobs wrack through me. It feels like days yet the sun has not risen. The physical pain leaks away to the point where its absence crawls halfway up my limbs. I watch the clouds move as I grit my teeth, willing the pain to pass. I don't think about my parents. I don't think about the life I will never have.

I try not to think about anything. I notice the little things, like when Alice comes home and swaps places with Esme, when the pain gradually starts ebbing away a little faster, the drip quickening. I notice when my skin becomes noticeably paler and when my senses begin to sharpen, allowing me to perceive things in a way I never imagined a person would be capable of.

I have more questions for Carlisle but I don't want to see him. I'm afraid, afraid of what I do and don't know.

I can hear Rosalie in the next room, pacing, restless. I understand why she wants to euthanize me, now. Everyone else seems to be against it, though, and I try to convince myself that it's encouraging.

I know that Emmett, the frightening, burly brother, is in there with her, comforting her, along with the kind, good natured Esme. I know that everyone stops speaking whenever I begin to wail, but when I settle down, they seem content to speak.

I notice that Alice and Jasper are quiet. They stand by the door, probably protecting me from the radical Rosalie, and they occasionally exchange quiet words. I notice that they stand still, unmoving, for hours and hours. Jasper has been there for days.

"Don't you sleep?" I mumble, rhetorically.

"No," Alice affirms through the closed door, obviously being able to hear me. "We don't ever sleep."

I sigh. Information overload. I'm overwhelmed.

"Edward will return home, soon," Alice quietly announces, whether to me or to Jasper, or everyone, I don't know.

I do know that, even through my suffering, Edward's impending arrival sends my heart racing. I want to hit myself, finding it ludicrous that even after all of these heartbreaking revelations and all of this pain, I still feel anxiety when it comes to facing him. Just the other day, I was nervous about facing him in biology.

It all feels like a nightmare. In a way, I'm stilling pinning all my hopes on that.

I stare at the cracks on the ceiling, stunned by the clarity in my vision, in spite of the fire that still scorches me.

As more time passes, the pain fades some more, but I'm still consumed by the flames. I mourn the loss of my family. I wait.

Eventually, I can discern the differences between the Cullen's footsteps as they move from different parts of the big house, as well as their dizzyingly pleasant scents. So I know that it's Carlisle approaching, just as the second sunrise is beginning to take place, the deep blue sky lightening. He softly raps on the door and when I barely whisper for him to come in, he enters, closing the door behind him.

The fire rages on, although my arms and legs are free. I still don't seem to have movement below my waist and I wonder if my spine will ever heal.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, sitting by me again. I don't flinch, this time, when he takes my hand. I squeeze it.

I give him a look, my face still pinched in pain.

"How long left, Alice?" he says quietly. I'm still surprised when she responds with clarity, even though I've deduced that being a vampire provides outrageously high-quality senses.

"About three hours." She sounds almost chipper. I throw my head back, surprising even myself when a shrill wailing bounces off the walls. I can't handle any more, even if three hours sounds like a short time.

I hear the front door open and my eyes widen for a moment, before agony comes in more brutal waves. I very nearly lose it, but I try to contain my reaction, coughing out sobs. I try to ignore the fact that I am stupidly self- conscious, because of Edward's arrival.

With my new found hearing, I am able to listen to his every move. I hear his intake of breath and wish I could see through the floor, but my enhanced vision goes no further than the fine details of the mahogany wood flooring.

"Don't worry," Carlisle soothes, petting my clenched hand tenderly. "It's only Edward."

_I know. That's what scares me._

I flinch when an ominous sound echoes through the walls, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. A feral, female snarl, presumably from Rosalie, sends me on edge. My instinct tells me that she is a threat, but before I can hide behind the couch, my rational thinking keeps me still. I listen as she sweeps through the house, faster than I thought possible.

Superhuman speed, too? What next, heat vision?

My heart skips a beat when I hear unfamiliar steps climbing the stairs. I close my eyes, incapacitated by scorching agony for the hundredth time.

When I hear Edward join the others outside my door, Esme greets him, sounding almost relieved at his arrival. How long has he been gone? I hadn't realised he wasn't even in town, when he wasn't at school. Perhaps he really had somewhere he needed to be during the week.

I either don't catch his response, or he says nothing at all. Something in his demeanour must stir a reaction in Emmett.

"At least you won't have to worry about killing her," he jokes. I blanch. What does _that_ mean?

"Don't make jokes," Esme snaps. Carlisle squeezes my hand, in another attempt to comfort me. I wince, feeling the sting of my throat flare. I feel like I have a thirst that needs quenched, but the thought of drinking water is almost repellent.

Alice takes Esme's side, shaming Emmett over his joke in poor taste.

"This is very serious," she says, her fairy's voice tightening. "Bella's parents are in pieces. They think they're daughter is dead. Have a little respect."

My heart pounds at the reminder. I weep.

"Oh, god, p-poor Renee," I cry. "_Charlie._"

"I know," Carlisle murmurs, sympathetically. "I know, it hurts, but it is for the best."

After a moment of more emotional and physical pain, he speaks again.

"Is it time for more information? I feel that it would be best if I explained what's coming, so that you aren't too shocked by the transformation."

I nod, unsure. Am I ready for more?

"As you have probably noticed, your senses are heightening. Over the next few hours, they might become a little overwhelming. You sense of sight, touch, smell and hearing will become enhanced far beyond any level you've ever experienced. You may become overwhelmed by your instincts to protect yourself, but don't worry about that too much. We will be very careful not to frighten you. If you need space, we will give it to you. All we want is to help you become comfortable in your new skin."

When I don't say anything, he continues.

"Another thing, will you your strength and speed. As a newborn, your physical abilities will be significantly more advanced than ours, as we are older. You will need to be aware of your strength, because throwing your weight around could cause injuries. You will learn how to better carry yourself as time passes."

I nod my head, urging him with tightened eyes to continue. I feel my legs twitch as the relief begins more rapidly climbing up my torso, past the base of my spine. The venom is healing me.

Carlisle continues, oblivious to my revelation.

"Also, you will notice changes in your appearance. Your skin is already becoming pale, harder and colder. You will notice that with the change comes immense beauty and physical enhancement. This is part of our intended survival on the blood of humans. They find us physically appealing; therefore it is easier for our kind to ensnare them. Although you know that this is not something we need, as vegetarians," he grins wryly.

I digest this information. I will be beautiful. I glance at Carlisle, in all his startling perfection. I try to imagine myself looking like that and come up blank. I can't see myself ever achieving that kind of beauty.

"There is more," he mumbles quietly, looking somewhat forlorn. "The matter of your thirst is your biggest concern."

Oh no. My thirst. I feel my stomach turn, an echo of nausea.

"As feeders of animal blood, our thirst will never be quite as satiated as those who consume human blood. The burning in your throat will dim and become manageable, but essentially it is something we've all learned to get used to and tolerate. This will be something you'll struggle with, for the first few years. We will help you overcome it, though and you will succeed, with time and diligence."

My throat flames in response. I try to come to terms with what I'm hearing, but it is all so bewildering.

In three hours, I will no longer be human. Am I prepared to face what I will become?

Fear ripples through me. I'm not ready for this. I'm not strong enough to be a part of this secret, unsavoury part of reality. This is the stuff of fiction.

As time creeps forward, my pain trickles away some more, and my heart changes. Carlisle holds my hand through the agony and I pretend not to be focusing almost entirely on Edward Cullen. What does he think about me joining his bizarre family? Is he angry, as Rosalie is? Does he still harbour an irrational resentment toward me?

I will find out about that. I need to know why he hates me, because even after my crash course on the theory of this way of life, I still don't understand.

I feel my body begin to calm, no longer alarmed by the sensations inside. My heart rate and my breathing is steadier and I silently wish that my mind could be as placid as my body. Everyone else is almost silent, breathing slowly. In, out. In, out. I focus on the sound, listening to the soft pattern of their perfectly synchronised breathing.

I hear a cough from an unfamiliar male voice and assume it is Edward. The sound is forced, unnatural.

My heart begins stuttering and pounding, making me panic. I press my free hand against the burning area, looking at Carlisle for insight.

"It's normal," he assures me. "You're heart is battling the venom. The venom will win."

I'm not sure how I feel about that. I try to suppress the anxiety over my now thrumming heart, feeling a strange sense of relief spread up my stomach. I can sense that it is finally almost over, now. I close my eyes as they begin stinging, feeling the weight of emotion overwhelm me.

More time passes and so does the pain. I sigh, in relief, in grief, as I settle into the end. The physical pain is almost completely evaporated but the ache in my heart feels permanent.

I don't know how long I sit, feeling this sense of finality, but my heart eventually begins losing the battle. I never imagined I could be awake for the final few beats of my heart.

I'm stunned and gasp from the shock of it as my heart thuds desperately, just twice more, before stopping completely.

Then there is silence.

**I initially intended to include the first hunt but I think I'll save that for the fourth chapter, seeing how long this one was. Thanks for reading, stay tuned folks. Peace. x**


	4. Confounded

**I'm sorry I left you guys hanging plot-wise last time, but I hope this chapter compensates. Hope you guys enjoy.**

Bella

When I open my eyes, it's like I'm seeing for the first time.

Everything around me is stunning in its sheer..._clarity_. My eyes catch every fibre in every speck of dust, every tightly compacted element of raw material that makes up the varied objects around the room. From the window, the hypnotising, flaming sun peaks from behind the grey, pearlescent clouds, above a bed of forestry stretching over the horizon. The view has so much highly defined detailing that it very nearly takes my breath away.

Not that I _need _to breathe. I can't help but notice that every pull of air into my lungs serves a different purpose, now. If I stopped breathing, it might feel a little uncomfortable but I don't need it, not in the vital way I did a few days ago. I feel more aware of my surroundings, fully utilising my senses.

The air smells and tastes so good, though, so complex. A million little flavours tantalise my senses, making my head swim. I can taste the dust motes on my tongue, the appealing fragrance of the other creatures around me filling my lungs.

Before I can bask in all the bounty of my senses fully, my throat bursts into flames. I sharply inhale and clasp my hand around my neck.

_Ouch._

When someone touches my arm, it shouldn't shock me, but it does. As silken fingertips brush against my arm, a chill runs right up my spine, making me arch my back and shudder so quickly that I wonder whether it happened or not. Without a thought, I propel myself off of the couch, my body slapping against the bookcase, making the wood crack as the objects bash against each other on impact. A feral, menacing growl rips from deep inside my chest, resonating through the room as I crouch protectively.

It all happens so fast that Carlisle barely reacts, staring after me with nothing but understanding and patience in his astounding face. I breathe a quick sigh of relief when I realise that there is nothing to fear. Carlisle had been the one to touch my arm, merely in a comforting gesture, and I overreacted.

It's all so _new. _

It all happens in less than a millisecond, and when I stand upright, everyone breathes a little sigh of relief. I run my fingertips across my throat, feeling an echo of stinging venom flare inside.

"Are you alright, Bella?"

For a split second, his voice stuns me, so full of depth and clarity, like everything else.

I glance from Carlisle to the door. I can smell the others, all an amazing mixture of scents that I can't quite place. One scent that stands out reminds me of honeysuckle, lilac and..._sunshine?_ I want to get closer, to examine all the intriguing smells with more proximity, individually.

The burning at the base of my neck protests. There are other priorities.

I nod at Carlisle, amazed at the sound of his voice, singing in my ears in a way that makes my heart throb. Who knew how much beauty I had been blind to? I think back to my human memories and am surprised by how _fuzzy_ they are. I can remember my brutal change so vividly, yet I struggle through the haze of my weak human memories.

I am caught between thirst and wonderment, my attention pulling in all different directions countless times a second. When Carlisle speaks, I am delighted to learn that my attention is multifaceted and I can be examining the strange perfection of ceiling lamp above, whilst listening to what Carlisle is saying. I gasp quietly as my eyes are graced with all the colours of the rainbow, along with another that I can't put a name to. It's...dazzling.

"Could everyone give Bella some space, please?" Carlisle orders carefully, his eye on me, as if I might explode any moment. I feel fidgety, urgent. I need something to put out the fire in my throat. The more I acknowledge the scorching pain, the more it wholly occupies my focus.

I need to put it out. _Soon_.

When the others head down the stairs, I flinch and take a few cautious steps back, flush against the back window, running my hands over the smooth glass. My sensitive fingertips run over a few shallow, barely-there scratches. Sensation is everywhere, battling my thirst.

"Are you ready for your first hunt?" His voice is quiet, careful.

I think about it and the idea frightens me but the burning overrides my fear. I realize with complete surety that I need to quench this thirst, because the burning in my throat is verging on unbearable. Saying I'm ready for my first hunt would be a lie, though, so I filter my response more specifically.

"I'm very thirsty."

I'm startled by the undeniable beauty in my voice, high soprano, deeply angelic. It's frightening. I feel like I am reborn, a completely different person all together. The words pour out like a sweet song, stunning me into silence.

Carlisle smiles, recognising my wonder.

"Then follow me, Bella. You have nothing to be afraid of."

When he goes to the door, I very nearly barrel into him, unused to the power of my speed. I smile apologetically, taking a tentative step back. As I follow him down the hall and down the curving staircase, I go unnaturally slowly, even though it takes us only a few seconds to descend.

I suppress a territorial hiss when I register the sight of the rest of the family – apart from Rosalie – all standing by the door, waiting for me, each one of them a thousand times more stunning than my weak, human eyes could've ever comprehended. My eyes fly to Edward's for an eighteenth of a second and I am startled by his golden stare, so full of unnamed emotions. I cast my eyes around the room, pouring over every beautiful detail. I spy a shining black grand piano, wondering who plays, before the ache in my throat pulls me back to the now.

Alice beams delightedly at me, her tawny eyes gloating. I push back the uncomfortable way the sight of her pearly teeth makes me feel, like I should be on guard.

"I knew you'd make a beautiful vampire," she whispers excitedly, very nearly bouncing with glee. I can do nothing but stare back stupidly, surprised. I'm scared to imagine what I must look like. Surely not anything close to the exquisite beauty of these creatures?

"We have more pressing matters," Carlisle informs her, carefully stepping by me very slowly, making sure I don't startle. Again, I take cautious steps back. I know I'm not really in danger, but my instincts refuse my mind's rationality. My muscled remain coiled, preparing to spring at a moment's notice.

"Emmett, Jasper and Alice," he starts. "You all must go to school as normal. Ordinarily, I would prefer to have you with us to assist with Bella, but I think it's more important that we don't arouse suspicion. Remember, you know nothing about her incident, or what happened to her. You all know your stance on this. Edward, considering you have already been absent from school, I feel that you should be here for Bella's first hunt, so you can monitor her thoughts and catch her if she goes astray."

"What?" I say, staring at the painfully attractive boy, whose butterscotch eyes tighten. Everyone looks at me and I unwillingly turn my gaze onto Carlisle, who appears chagrined.

"My apologies, Bella. I should have explained before. Some of our kind are known to have supernatural gifts. Edward is capable of reading the minds of everyone around him, something he brought into his next life."

My jaw drops and my gaze flickers to Edward's. Impossible.

Embarrassment follows. _Edward Cullen_ has read _my_ _mind_. Does he know how I have pathetically obsessed over his bewildering hatred towards me? Or how I have poured over his devastating beauty?

_Well, he does now,_ I think stupidly.

I cast my eyes earthward at this horrifying realisation. Privacy has become a thing of the past, with a mind reader in the family and super hearing throughout the household. I almost wish I could be ignorant of his gift. How could I control my thoughts around him, when he makes me so nervous?

I glance at him furtively, surprised by the look in his eyes. It only lasts a fleeting moment, but I catch it. He appears...frustrated.

How curious. I sift through my bleary human memories, searching for the somewhat familiar expression. He had looked at me with that same bizarre frustration in the cafeteria on my first day, if memory serves. Except now, the frustration seems more acute.

"Is anyone else gifted?" I mumble, quickly looking into the mesmerising, topaz eyes of the group, taking in their perfect features.

Carlisle answers for them, proudly.

"They are all gifted, some more subtly than others. Emmett has physical strength that is unparalleled and you've probably noticed that Rosalie has exceptional beauty, even among our kind. Esme, my wife, has brought the innate ability to love passionately and unconditionally into this life. Alice has the ability to see coming events before they have actually taken place, allowing her to see our future based on the choices we make. Jasper empathises with the moods around him, experiencing emotions from the people in his company in a very intense way. He is also able to manipulate those emotions, making others able to fully feel what he wants them to. We believe that most of these extra abilities serve well instinctually, fitting ammunition against potential enemies, I suppose."

I am stunned into total silence. Amazing.

I look at Alice, stilling smiling welcomingly. I think back with clarity to when I was burning and suddenly all of the things she said about 'seeing things' make sense. She can see into the future, but she never saw me get bitten.

I think about the enormity of it all. I am no longer human. I have senses that I wasn't even vaguely aware a creature could possibly have the capacity for...and now I am going to have to live the rest of my life, feeding on animal blood.

I will never, ever be able to talk to my parents again.

I bite my lip, doing my best to push the heartbreak back for now. I can't reveal myself so brazenly, to these other unyielding creatures. I will have to weep in private, away from their abnormal hearing.

Away from the mind reader.

I look at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but he just looks back at me in even more burning curiosity. I try to understand why.

"Edward and I will keep an eye on her," Esme assures her husband, smiling. "You must go to work. We don't want people wondering about your absence."

"Indeed," he agrees, seeming pensive. "Call me if there are any problems. I will return immediately."

"Of course," she says, very slowly approaching him, glancing at me. I step back again, my ankles touching the stairs as Esme reaches forward to kiss his cheek.

As I watch the tender exchange, I wonder to myself how I could have thought of them as monsters. I've never seen so much love in one chaste kiss, in one glance. I look away, weirdly affected by the scene.

When I glance up, Edward's eyes are boring into mine. I want to smile, but my lips won't be commanded. Everything about him, his outrageously beautiful appearance, his demeanour, makes my still heart tug in a way that can't be explained.

I know that it is very, very _stupid _to feel this way about an almost-stranger. From what I remember, he wasn't exactly friendly in our first meeting, if you could call it that.

I realise that our gazes have been connected a second too long when Emmett coughs, very obviously. I rip my gaze away, feeling my cheeks tingle with the ghost of a blush. What a strange sensation.

I can tell that this new life is going to take a lot of adjustment.

I try to understand the meaning of his intensity as the others bid me goodbye. Alice approaches me, with a little secret smile on her lips, a horrified Edward staring after her. I stiffen as she leans in close, planting a sweet little kiss on my cheek.

Taken aback, I give her a small smile, my eyes wide.

"I can see that we're going to be good friends, Bella," she smiles, before turning on her heal and gracefully dancing after the others out the open door. I listen as they go into another part of the house and flinch when I hear an engine purr to life. I watch the red, shiny car drive away, amazed.

There is so much to see, so much to explore.

I lean forward on the balls of my feet as a magnificent scent pulls me forward. It's a combination of a thousand different components, a floral, pollen cocktail. I'm about to follow the scent when Esme speaks, pulling my attention back to the two remaining Cullens behind me, abnormally attractive.

"Edward," Esme instructs, using his name with the tenderness of a real mother, rather than a woman posing as one. "I feel it would be best if I were to first demonstrate the hunt for Bella, while you keep an eye on her. Edward's the fastest," Esme explains to me, turning away from her son. "It's not likely that you'll catch the scent of a human out here, but if it were to happen then Edward would be the one to catch you. You must be aware of that, and be mindful that none of us are going to hurt you, but we would have to restrain you if something like that did happen, dear." She sounded apologetic.

"I understand," I mumble, looking down, letting my hair fall around my face. I notice that the colour is quite different. Still dark chestnut but with more dimension, body and richer in colour. It flows like chocolate, distracting me for a moment.

"Shall we start, then?"

My head snaps up at the unfamiliar sound of Edward's voice. I feel my still heart flutter again, as the sound settles in my mind, the words replaying over and over. I've never heard his voice before now and it is captivating, low and husky, soft and clear all at the same time, even more beautiful than any others my new ears have heard.

I barely manage a nod in affirmation.

Edward glances back at Esme, who nods her assent. I meekly follow as they spring ahead, out into the stretching lawn.

I feel a strange excitement rising in my chest as I follow them through the looming trees. My legs carry me forward so quickly, with so much ease, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world.

Only a few days ago, running had been repellent to me. I could barely walk without tripping over my own feet.

Now, as we approach that same wide, flowing river that Sam carried me over, I pause nervously, watching in amazement as Edward and Esme leap over it with amazing ease and inhuman grace. They both turn toward me expectantly. Esme smiles, encouraging.

I feel like I'm flying as I soar above the bubbling water, landing on the balls of my feet perfectly. I giggle, but the frighteningly sweet sound is short lived. Momentary pleasure cannot cure my loss. I bite my lip, desperately trying not to think about my parents, about what could have been.

I push my grief aside, moving along. I consciously make the effort to keep a careful distance behind Esme and Edward, which is uncomfortable. I long to run as_ fast_ as my body is able, but I know that I must remain behind. I find my eyes wandering upon Edward, who runs so gracefully in leaps and bounds that I find myself unable to look away.

_He can read your mind, idiot!_

My thoughts are chagrined as I glue my gaze straight ahead intead, focusing intently on the hunt. I listen as the little creatures of the woods scuttle away from us, burrowing under the roots of trees and deeply under soil, sensing our impending presence.

Then I smell it.

I turn my nose up higher, inhaling deeply, expanding my lungs to full capacity. It smells hot and wet...almost appealing. My stomach contracts in a vague echo of hunger, yet I don't feel particularly infatuated with the scent. I could take it or leave it, really.

"Do you smell that, Bella?" Esme smiles over her shoulder, her pace remaining steady.

"Yes," I reply quietly, knowing she'll hear me just fine. I can hear them now, too. A gentle throbbing, coupled with the sound of rapid galloping against the firm forest soil.

A herd.

"It sounds like a herd of deer. We'll follow that scent," she murmurs, sounding focused. I let my instincts lead the way, following the two Cullens to the distracting pumping hearts not far from us.

A feeling of pure anticipation rolls over me when we spot them. My feet begin to propel me forward until Edward's voice calmly captures my attention.

"You and I will stop here, Bella, and watch as Esme hunts. You can get a feel for it, then."

I slow to a stop with him, keeping my eyes forward so I don't get distracted by his deep, appealing voice, his allure. My new eyes follow Esme with immense precision. I know she should appear a blur to my eyes, yet they catch every movement perfectly.

Every muscle in my body is coiled in anticipation as I watch her close in on one of the deer, her arms smoothly closing around its form as she calmly envelopes the creature in a fatal embrace. I feel my mouth fill with a metallic liquid and when I swallow it down, my throat flames.

I am entranced as she snaps its neck quickly, presumably to be humane. She then slips her lips back over her teeth, before piercing the deer's neck, sucking steadily.

"Amazing," I whisper in wonder.

In the corner of my eye, I see Edward turn to gaze at me. When I meet his golden eyes, they are wide. If I had a living heart, it would be thrumming.

"What?" My voice is tiny. I can't help being a little afraid of him.

"Nothing," he mutters quickly. "I'm just waiting for you to run, screaming."

A small smile lifts the corners of my lips. I look back at Esme, who drops the drained creature with grace, wiping the corners of her mouth like she's just finished eating something as mundane as soup.

"There's still time," I respond, my voice steady. I don't look back at him, but I can see in my peripheral that Edward's face is still poised in my direction.

Esme's satin voice captures my attention and I am grateful.

"Okay, sweetie, are you ready to hunt for yourself?"

I smile shyly at Esme, nodding quickly. She smiles warmly, before turning on her heal and taking off. Edward and I follow closely behind. I wait for him to overtake me, but I am surprised as he runs beside me, keeping his pace synced with mine.

I want to look at him, but every time I catch my chin trailing my gaze in his direction, I force myself back, eyeing Esme in front of me, focusing.

When we catch the scent of a small herd of caribou, we zero in on it. It feels natural, pleasurable even, to wrap myself around a creature and to bite. I am momentarily reminded of my half-death, when my teeth slice through the animal's flesh like a knife through butter, just as my attacker's had through mine.

I suck the blood in, soothed by its comfortable, warm wetness. The fire in my throat dims until it's almost unnoticeable and I feel...rejuvenated.

As I pull in gulp after gulp, I find my eyes fluttering open, meeting two gold globes.

Edward, having drained his creature, stays crouched over the carcass. He's not looking at it, though. His eyes are on me.

When he registers my returned stare, he immediately straightens himself, glancing elsewhere, having been caught.

How _confusing_ he is.

I feel as though I should be blushing again as I rise, detaching myself from the caribou. I stare at its dead eyes, wondering what on earth I have become. So...barbaric, yet probably more humane to hunt an animal directly rather than through the business of factory farming. Perhaps being a 'vegetarian' vampire is a kinder way to eat.

Satiated, I look up at my new 'family', awaiting approval. Edward gazes at the forest floor, a frown pinching the marble skin between his perfectly sculpted brows. Esme smiles at me again, forever tender and sweet.

"Are you still thirsty? Or would you like to return home?"

"I'm ready to go back," I say, eager to get some time semi-alone.

"So...," I mumble as well slow to a stop as the Cullen mansion comes into view. "We don't eat normal food? Ever?"

"No, honey," Esme replies as she opens the wide, glass panelled door. We follow her inside and I breathe in the sweet scent of the house again. "We can, I suppose, but we cannot digest it nor can we retain nutrition from the food. Sometimes we find ourselves having to choke human food down, in public, but that always ends in us...well...having to bring it back up," she grimaces.

"Oh, I see," I reply, feeling once again overwhelmed by how _bizarre _this new life is. I think about what Charlie must be doing right now. He's so close, yet so far. I think about trying to sneak out, to at least spy on him a little. Then I look at Edward, remembering that we have a mind reader forever peering into our thoughts. Looks like I won't be seeing my father, or my mom, ever again.

My dead heart tugs.

"Bella, perhaps you would like a shower, or a bath? I can get you a change of clothes...Alice has a shopping addiction and has already got you stocked for pretty much every day of the month," Esme grins wryly. My eyes widen, before I glance down at myself. My ratty jeans and T-shirt are soaked in blood and torn, somehow rattier than before. I remember that I was cleaning Charlie's house before I was bitten by the female vampire. That's why I'm practically wearing rags.

I could definitely use a cleanup, as well as some time to myself, to collect.

"I would really appreciate that, Esme."

Edward

As I watch Bella follow my respective mom up the stairs, I all but sag in relief. Within moments I smell the soothing scents of lavender and jasmine oil, followed by the sound of running water. I look through Esme's mind as she lights a few candles in her and Carlisle's en suite, where Bella stands by the wide tub, now filling with water. Esme touches her arm in a comforting gesture, as she identifies Bella's expression as 'forlorn'.

I shut Esme out, feeling a tightening in my chest. I don't want to see the child's grief.

I stand at by the front door, my feet planted to the floor as I recover from possibly the most unsettling hunt of my existence.

Bella Swan is very different. I've known it on a very basic level, since I first became aware of her silence, as well as her ultra sweet blood. Now, after seeing her as a newborn, I know she is much more unique than I had anticipated. Not just that, but she seems totally unaware of it, unsure of herself, even.

I expected her to have a normal newborn reaction to hunting. I expected her to run from us in fear, in distrust. I expected her to refuse the possibility of our kind, even upon her brutal change. I expected her to break down, to at least try to attack us.

Bella didn't do any of those things, though. It's like she did the _opposite_ of what I expected.

I was at first shocked when she so calmly dealt with our proximity before the others left for school and work. Then I was very surprised when she didn't request to see her father, when she looked upon our gifts in wonder and amazement. I was taken aback when she released a small, entrancing giggle from her full lips after leaping from one side of the river to the other, with the grace of a decade old vampire.

I was downright _bewildered_ when she gazed upon Esme, draining a living animal of its life force, and breathed out an admission of amazement. She saw beauty in our atrocious nature, when I expected immense disgust and horror.

It only got more strange, though. Most newborns don't just slip into the way of our nature with such ease as she had. I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head when I saw her grab hold of her prey, holding it with so much sureness and grace, sinking her teeth in as if it were the most natural thing in the world to her.

Of course, it is, but it is still shocking to me, to see an hour old newborn fitting her new role like a glove. It's almost as if she is _made_ for this life.

I shove the thought out of my mind, disgusted. No one is designed for immortality. We are abominations, the very thing humankind unconsciously fears. We are the dark figures in the night who are created to stalk and murder innocent people, like something from a horror story. We are the cold consumers of lives, barely able to hang on to what's left of our humanity.

I can't believe that someone as innocent and delicate as Bella Swan could have been well suited for this creation for any reason. She is just different.

I just wish I could _hear_ the reasons behind the differences. I know that I will have to explain to everyone that her mind is a mystery to me, but when Carlisle mentioned it this morning, I couldn't force the words out. I'm ashamed that I felt...inadequate. I tried and tried to infiltrate her silent mind time and time again, all to no avail. I'll talk to Carlisle tonight and everyone will hear, much to my humiliation. At least I don't have to explain it individually.

That doesn't make me any less frustrated by her silence. I had hoped that her transformation would alter her mind block, but it hasn't. Her thoughts are completely shielded to me.

I am also no longer sure that her mind will be the mundane pool of human shallowness I had initially expected. She had none of the reactions I expected her to, after her change. I imagined someone in complete denial, someone unwilling to cooperate. Bella simply seemed overwhelmed by her new senses, pouring over the sights around her. It was astounding to see.

She was as thirsty and unsettled as I expected, yet she handled these feelings in such a strange way. I've never seen anything like it. She seemed bizarrely...accepting, after her initial shock at Carlisle's admission during her transformation, from what I heard in my family's memories of that period.

If anything, she is gracious. She confounds me, even after only having about an hour to get to know her, with her quiet demeanor and silent mind.

When I set about returning to Forks, I'd made the decision based on my denial of her inexplicable hold over me, but also _because _of that hold. Now, I know that her hold is keeping me here. I can't deny my curiosity with this strange creature and I can't deny my wonder. She is like no one else I have encountered in my existence, I'm sure of it.

_Edward._

I raise my head, listening to my mother call me through her mind.

_Come join me in Jasper and Alice's room. I need help. _

I raise my eyebrows, peering through her mind's eye as I make my way to my siblings' room. Below her, on the mountainous four poster bed, is a vast selection of neatly folded garments. I gather from the tenor of her mind that she is undecided about what to pick out for Bella to wear.

When I join her, she glances back at me, remaining silent, obviously not wanting Bella to hear her deliberating over what she should select out of all the clothes Alice purchased for her. She gets the impression that our new addition might feel somewhat uncomfortable with the effort.

I agree.

_I'm just not sure, Edward, _she muses, gazing down at the expensive clothing in indecision. _What she was wearing was casual, but I don't know if she'd prefer something a little more feminine...a dress maybe?_

She picks up a knee length, pastel peach chiffon dress, with delicate lace trim. I shake my head, deciding it is maybe a little too brave of us to force on her. I think back to my first sight of the girl and decide she is more of a jeans and t shirt kind of girl.

I pick up a pair of light grey skinny jeans, scanning the tops. I find my eyes drawn to a deep blue, soft-knit, v-neck sweater. I hold it up to Esme and she grins.

_Perfect. _

I listen to water ripple as I pass Esme and Carlisle's room, aware that Bella will be sinking gracefully into the tub now. I push my focus elsewhere, giving her much needed privacy. I might find her fascinating, but I am no pervert. I'm just not that kind of monster.

When I'm in my bedroom, I immediately turn to the solace of music. I go to the glass wall after slipping Debussy into my CD player, letting the soft melody of Clair de Lune wash over me.

I look out at the forest, the sun beginning to melt the ice that has crystallised upon ever surface, every crevice of every leaf. I ponder this strange girl.

And then I hear it. The sound is soft, quiet and heart shattering in its beauty.

Bella is weeping. Not in the human way, not with salt infused tears, but in the immortal way. I listen as she gently sobs, her breath hitching.

I crumple, undeniably affected by her grief. It occurs to me that this soft, soulful music might not be helping her deal with her loss.

I want to say something, so I do. I pretend that Esme is not within earshot. I pretend that only Bella can hear. I fantasise that my words will mean something, that they will somehow be helpful.

"I'm sorry, Bella," I whisper. "Would you like me to turn it off?"

A moment passes before she replies, her clear, mesmerizing voice cleansing me more effectively than any amount of music ever could.

"No," she breathes. "I like it."

**Sorry I took a little longer than usual to update, guys. I promise the next one won't take as long. Please review the chapter so you can let me know how you felt about it. Thank you!**

**Love, Kate. :) **


	5. Balloon

**I just want to thank all of my reviewers. You guys keep me motivated! Please enjoy!**

Bella

It is every bit as terrifying as I suspected.

It takes me a while to realise that the pale, beautiful woman in the full-length mirror's reflection is me. She is every bit as stunning as the Cullens, as the woman who took my humanity behind Charlie's house, and it unnerves me. When I finally figure out that this is no stranger, that the dark haired woman is me, I gasp, submerged in a heady cocktail of horror and fascination.

My skin is marble, pale as the moon, glowing dimly in the candlelight in Esme's bathroom. My thick, lustrous hair flows down to my waist, perfectly straight before curling softly around my breasts. My body is quite subtle in its differences, yet I notice that I curve more fully, both slender and curvaceous. I look more at ease in this new skin, rather than before, when I was awkward and gangly.

My face is the most different. I'm frightened by how estranged I feel from myself, unrecognisable. How will I ever get used to this level of beauty?

My eyes, which were once dark brown, are now a startling, bright shade of crimson, framed with thick, black lashes, like two frayed butterfly's wings. Below my wide eyes are subtle, lilac bruises, like that of the Cullens. My features are perfectly straight and in proportion with each other, balanced, and my face is still heart shaped, but my chin isn't so dramatically narrow in comparison with my prominent cheek bones. There is no blush colouring them now. I am pale all over, my chalkiness only starkly interrupted by my eyes and hair.

The only real recognisable feature I locate is my lips, still slightly out of balance. I touch them, smiling softly. I'm still me, I think. I hope.

I look at myself for a moment, before remembering that Edward is a mind reader. He seems like a true gentleman, but how do I know that he can ignore what he sees through the minds of others? I'm probably making him feel uncomfortable, mooning over my own naked reflection.

I turn around, embarrassed. I wrap my damp hair in a fluffy white towel before heading into Esme's bedroom, where she's left me some clothes. I find them folded neatly on the bedspread, topped with a silver comb, for my hair. I smile at the considerate gesture.

When I locate a scanty lace bra and panty set, my cheeks tingle in a way that is becoming familiar. I look at the label above the clasp and see that it is clearly a product of a designer brand. These Cullens obviously have more money than sense, and I feel uncomfortable accepting such extravagant gifts. I've never been one for designer wear.

Still, I feel it would be rude to say anything, so I slip them on, enjoying the feel of fine lace on my skin, which has now cooled. I nod in approval at the more simplistic grey jeans and deep blue sweater, even though they hint at designer origins. I bite my lip, suspecting that the sweater is cashmere. I decidedly avoid the label.

Everything fits perfectly. I will have to thank Alice for picking these up for me.

I run the comb through my hair before collecting my old clothes, leaving it on the bathroom counter. I blow out the candles before going out into the hall, my wet hair dripping on my sweater. I make my way down the stairs, in search of a place to throw my tattered clothes away. When I turn toward the living area, I unexpectedly run into Edward, literally slamming into him. Without a coherent thought I drop my clothes, a deafening hiss bubbling up my chest and out of my mouth as I crouch back against the wall, baring my teeth.

Immediately Edward apologises and I put my head in my hands in utter humiliation.

"No, I'm sorry," I insist, straightening out and grabbing my clothes. "What a stupid reaction. I just didn't hear you coming."

"Neither did I," he murmurs thoughtfully, his eyes tight. "That was my fault, I'm sorry...and it's not foolish to react that way, if anything...I think you react too calmly."

I bark out an incredulous laugh, thinking he's joking, before realising he's serious.

"Seriously? I just _hissed_ at you," I mutter awkwardly. I cast my eyes downward before Edward chuckles lightly.

The sound is probably the most mesmerising I've heard yet.

"Yes, but you didn't even attack me. You're very placid, for being only a few hours old," he muses. He looks almost amused, but there's something else in his expression that I can't decipher.

I gaze up at him in horror. "Attack you? Is that the norm?"

He looks back down at me, his gaze intensifying. There is that same frustrated look he seems to favour with me.

"None of this is the norm, exactly, but you're reactions are certainly not like any newborn I've ever encountered."

Again, my cheeks tingle. Of course, I would be the oddball amongst mythical creatures. Nothing changes.

When I glance up at his perfect face, his eyes are once again burning with unmet expectations. I forcefully break away from his stare, eager to change the subject.

"I was just looking for a place to dispose of my clothes. They're unsalvageable," I laugh, but the sound is strangely shaky. I need to get away from this dazzling person before my mind betrays me too much.

His eyes alight with awareness. "Of course. Follow me."

I comply, my eyes tracing the muscles in his back as he leads me out the back, into a wide yard. I breathe in the taste of nature as I follow him round the side of the house, where a large, cubic, metal trash can resides. He slides it open with chalky, nimble fingers. I drop my raggedy clothes in, feeling as if the moment is oddly symbolic. Here I am, throwing my last shred of humaneness away, with a vampire in assistance. My old life is truly over, now.

When I turn my gaze up at him, I'm wondering if he's thinking the same thing.

"I can't hear you," Edward blurts suddenly. I stare at him, frowning slightly, confused.

"But I never said anything," I reply. His eyes bore into mine, taking my breath away.

He is, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life. It's very distracting.

"No, I can't _hear _you," he whispers, his voice filled with frustration and something like...wonder?

"I don't..." I shake my head quickly. What does he mean?

"Your thoughts," he clarifies. "I can't read your mind, Bella."

My eyebrows feel as if they rise right up to my hairline at this reveal. Edward can't hear my thoughts.

I try not to let him see how relieved I am to hear that.

We are silent for a moment, as I take this in. This is...bizarre.

"Has that ever happened before?" I whisper shyly. Why does this seem to bother him so much? Does he honestly think my thoughts could hold any interest to him? Or is my silence simply a discomfort?

"Never," he breathes. I catch myself leaning towards him, inhaling his sweet, honeysuckle and lilac scent. I pull myself back before I can make a total idiot of myself.

"That's so...odd. Do the others know?" I murmur thoughtfully, clearly recalling Carlisle requesting Edward monitor my mind on our hunt. If he'd known, he wouldn't have done that.

"No," he admits reluctantly. "I'm going to tell them tonight. Esme knows, _now_," he grins wryly.

"Damn super hearing," I laugh. "Do you have any theories?"

He looks frustrated again. "Nothing worth sharing. Perhaps I can only read AM frequencies and your mind is on the FM," he chuckles.

My lips turn down. Of course. I've always suspected there was a glitch in my brain. How upsetting to have that suspicion confirmed.

Edward turns to go back inside and I dither, unsure if I should follow him or not. I don't want to start taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, like Mike.

The thought of my high school acquaintances makes me feel somewhat emotional. Not that there was any real connection with my new school friends, but it's somehow painful to know that they think I'm dead, now. That'll give Jessica something to connect with Mike over, at least.

I think of Renee again. Of Charlie. My poor parents.

"Are you coming, Bella?" Edward asks, his eyes on mine. I nod, feeling like an intruder in this home.

"Thank you," I mumble as we enter the wide open space of the Cullen's pale furnished home. "For being so accepting of me, I mean. You all didn't have to do that."

I look away as Edward replies, his voice soft, unexpectedly tender. "It's the least we can do. We try our best to keep what humanity we have left."

I smile slightly in acknowledgement, thinking back to when we listened to Clair de Lune, walls apart. He had heard me losing myself in grief, and offered to turn the music off. That seems like more than basic humanity.

Esme bolts down the stairs at exactly the right moment, saving me from the tension I feel around this handsome vampire. We smile at each other as she stands in front of me, touching my arm in a caring gesture.

"How are you feeling, Bella? If you need to hunt again, just say."

I check my throat. It is a little stingy, but nothing unmanageable.

"I'm okay, for now, Esme. Thank you."

I gaze at the piano, by the staircase, my interest piqued.

"Do you play?" Esme asks, smiling with genuine warmth. I suddenly feel grateful that she is so much like a mother. It makes me feel more at ease.

"No," I laugh lightly. "I'm not particularly musical, but I do love some classical."

She grins, turning her attention to her son. "Well, Bella, you've got a classical genius standing right next to you. Perhaps you should play something for her, son?"

I glance up at the Greek god, confused by his almost shy expression. What does he possibly have to be shy about?

"You don't have to," I say quickly, unwilling to put him on the spot.

"I'd be happy to, if you'd like to hear some?"

My cheeks tingle. I suddenly feel shy myself, like I'm in the third grade, crushing on the cutest boy in class. I'm so glad he can't hear my embarrassingly pathetic thoughts.

"I'd love to," I murmur. In the corner of my eye, I see Esme smile widely. I get the feeling she might be playing the matchmaker, here, because as soon as Edward sits on the stool, she disappears.

I approach the piano, suddenly excited to hear him play. It occurs to me that I don't feel uncomfortable standing, that I don't need to lean on anything or shift my weight around. I'm entirely comfortable just standing statue-still by the piano, watching as Edward's long, white fingers poise above the right keys.

"Seeing as you enjoy Debussy," he smiles, before diving into the tune with ease.

When the music fills the air, I feel a pleasant tingling all over my skin, like I should be getting goose-pimples at the soaring melody. I watch, entranced as his fingers expertly dance over the keys, playing the piece as professionally as if he wrote it himself. I close my eyes, letting the soulful tune soothe my wounded heart. I recognise the song but don't know the name.

When it ends, Edward offers to play another and I accept, wanting this moment of tranquillity to go on. The next melody is slower, more sombre, soaring and dropping from high to low. I feel Edward's eyes on me and when I return his gaze, he appears once again curious.

I look away; confused by the way his eyes make me feel. I shouldn't be enjoying myself with this beautiful stranger. I should be home with Charlie, cooking him steaks and inwardly fretting over my distaste for Forks.

This isn't me, is it?

I let the beautiful music pour over me, sealing my wounds, like the venom that cured my spine. I let the bittersweet melody soothe my heartache, although it only serves to push my pain down deeper. My grief is like a balloon in my chest, trapped behind my ribcage, contracting, threatening the pop at the slightest influence.

I think about where I'll sleep tonight, wanting my own bed, before suddenly remembering that I will never sleep again. I won't ever rest my head on a pillow and drift away from my own awareness. I won't ever dream.

All I have is this new reality, now, and beautiful as it may be, my reality is a world of pain and loss.

"It'll be okay, Bella," Edward murmurs softly, reassuringly, seeming aware of the direction of my brooding. I look up, giving him a sad smile, feeling anything but.

"I thought you couldn't read my mind."

~o0o~

Later on, after Esme gives me the grand tour of the Cullen mansion, she says she has an important errand to run, something about blueprints. I see her and Edward having a sort of exchange. I assume he's listening to her thoughts, I just don't know why. Is he worried that he can't handle me on his own?

I feel like an animal, wild and unpredictable. I suppose that is really what I am. Edward had said I was placid, though. Maybe I'm a little different in that respect. Maybe that's my gift.

Or maybe I'm just numb, barely reacting, because I'm ignoring the nagging ache of my own turmoil.

Esme kisses both our cheeks before leaving and I feel that kiss penetrate my bones, reminding me of a mother's love.

I want _my _mother. I don't want a surrogate, and I don't want her to pretend to want me.

For a while, as I nurse my less than gracious thoughts, Edward and I just stand, still as statues, not looking at each other.

"I'm going to miss sleeping," I whisper, to no one in particular. Obviously, Edward responds, though, being the only person in the room.

"I still do, sometimes," he admits. "It will get easier, as time goes on."

"I'm sure it will," I respond flatly. "But will it become any less desirable? Am I going to spend my whole life pining for the things I don't have?"

I look at him when he doesn't respond for a second. He looks...unwilling. I know, then, that I am right.

"I think I'm thirsty, again," I say, automatically brushing my fingers against my throat. Edward appears undecided for a moment. I realise that he's probably not supposed to take me hunting without backup.

"I can wait, though..." I trail off.

"No, no, I'll take you," Edward says quietly, opening the door. "Just remember to follow my lead."

I nod in affirmation before doing just that, following behind him across the lawn, through the trees and over the river. We are able to run faster, this time, as Esme is not here. I gasp at the beauty, once again taken aback by the nature which envelopes us. As I run alongside Edward, I glance over at him to see that he is once again looking at me, rather than the bounty of nature.

I tell myself that his penetrative stare is either one of curiosity, or of scrutiny. He's surely just keeping his beady eye on me, ensuring that I don't veer off in another direction, intent on slaughtering the town.

I am surprised when _he_ veers off in another direction, leading me to the right. I feel almost giddy as we begin running on rougher terrain, easily dodging rocks and giant roots.

"Where are we going?"

"Up a cliff," Edward grins crookedly, making my insides flutter. "There's a beautiful view up there. I think it might make you feel a little better."

I try not to let on how touched I am as we speed on. I glance nervously at Edward as we come to the steep, rocky cliff.

"Just go with it. You're more than strong enough to climb," he says, coaching me.

I take a deep, unnecessary breath, before stepping backward. I run and jump, smoothly grabbing onto the sharp rock with ease, before letting out a stunned laugh.

"I told you," Edward chuckles, joining me. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out as we scale the cliff's side, ending up on the first lip within seconds. I jump easily onto the edge, which is fairly spacious. I look up higher, noticing that there are many heights Edward and I could bound to.

He settles on this level, though, gracefully sitting himself down on the edge, his legs hanging earthward. I join him, leaving some room between us. We smile at each other and when I look out at the stunning view, I see Edward's smile stretch into another crooked grin in the corner of my eye.

"Beautiful," I breathe, looking out at the treetops, the grey clouds.

"I couldn't agree more."

In my peripheral vision, I notice that Edward is still looking at me as he says this.

After a few minutes of gazing at the horizon, I turn to him, seeking out some answers to the many questions that bubble under my lips.

"How old are you?"

He looks surprised by the question. Of course, there should be so many other things on my mind right now.

"I was changed when I was seventeen. I've been a vampire for over eighty years," he murmurs, his voice like silk.

Eighty years of immortality! Edward should be a very, very old man by now...or dead.

I'm taken aback by how repellent the thought of his absence is.

"Wow," I say stupidly, lost for better words.

"Who is the oldest in your family?" I fire another one at him, feeling like I already know the answer.

Edward smiles. "Carlisle."

"I thought as much. He seems very...wise," I murmur, feeling once again lost for appropriate words.

"Yes," he agrees. "He is very wise. He is also more compassionate than most humans could hope to be. If I'm being truthful, he is the heart of the family."

I smile, almost wistfully. "You're very lucky, then, to have a father like that. How old is he?"

He glances at me, wary of my reaction. "Over three-hundred years old."

_You have got to be joking me._

I am truly speechless now. I gape at Edward, my mouth hanging open.

"Whoa...that's...old," I laugh shakily. "I definitely need to give him a little more respect, in that case. I'm pretty sure I screamed in his face yesterday."

I look away from Edward's face, which is filled with too much kindness and understanding. Too much compassion right now could bring my pain right up to the surface, which I am determinedly avoiding.

"Carlisle is experienced when it comes to transformations. Trust me, it takes a lot to faze him. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Hmm," I reply lowly. "I wouldn't say _nothing._"

For a while, we sit in silence, before I find myself confiding in this strange, beautiful boy.

"I wish I could see my father," I whisper, feeling paper thin and weak, rather than strong and unyielding, like granite.

"Perhaps one day, after we've moved on and you're a little older, we can return for a while. You won't be able to speak with him, or let him see you, but you could watch from afar," he offers, sounding all too aware of the fact that his suggestion is nowhere near enough to pacify my sadness.

"Perhaps," I respond, getting to my feet. My throat is burning a little more insistently now.

"Of course," Edward mutters, shaking his head. "You must be ravenous. I'm sorry, we'll go now."

"Don't be," I say, giving him a tentative smile. I want to show him that I am grateful, but it's difficult, when I feel this way. "You were right, this view _is _beautiful."

As we prepare to scale back down the cliff, something catches my eye in the distance. I focus on a small clearing, with a scattering of weeds sprouting from the grass. I see a man, dressed in a black police uniform, walking slowly across the clearing.

Edward says something, but I don't hear him. My eyes are on the man, with peach skin and dark curls, who walks in a familiar way.

My father. The man is my father.

The grief-filled balloon inside pops, sending my poorly concealed anguish to the surface.

"_Charlie."_


End file.
